


Dark Star

by wingsofbadass



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Kissing, Light Angst, dunamancy lessons, spoilers up to ep 117
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:55:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27861129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingsofbadass/pseuds/wingsofbadass
Summary: This spell creates a sphere centered on a point you choose within range. The sphere can have a radius of up to 40 feet. The area within this sphere is filled with magical darkness and crushing gravitational force.Or: Caleb lerns a new spell and messes up.
Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 23
Kudos: 152





	Dark Star

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PersonalTonks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PersonalTonks/gifts).



> This is a commission for my very dear friend whom I love very much.  
> I hope you enjoy this, babe! <3

The amount of times Caleb had wished he were someone else was immeasurable.

A different Caleb might have been doing well, casting this spell with an ease that was both impressive and casual, just effortlessly great. A different Caleb might have been turning to his teacher with a smile and seen that smile mirrored, no doubts or hidden agendas or warring home countries. A different Caleb might have been kissing those lying lips, breathless and full of joy and — 

But he was this Caleb.

The cut in his palm had been a mistake, born from awkwardness and a sudden desire for theatrics. It stung and bled more than the spell even required, but neither of them were healers and it seemed ridiculous to have this self-inflicted injury healed by one of his friends only to then make another, less inconvenient one. No, to save face, he had to go through with this. 

A few feet away, Essek was standing by the desk with his arms crossed over his chest. It was strange to see him like this again, grandiose mantle discarded and feet placed on the ground — it made him look vulnerable in a way Caleb did not know how to deal with. It reminded him too much of the last time they’d seen each other — really seen each other, without disguise — just a man sitting on a crate and another kneeling before him.

Everything about this was strange if he was honest with himself. 

For some reason they had met here, in the frozen wastes of this no man’s land. Just as Essek had predicted, both countries were still trying to beat each other even after leaving the battlefield behind. And here Essek was, in the middle of it once again.

He’d felt Essek’s eyes on himself, every time like a stab to the chest, while Caleb had been unable to meet them. To spurn the opportunity for learning a new Dunamantic spell, however, had been an obvious impossibility the moment Essek had offered it, and not just because Caleb craved distraction from his turbulent thoughts, desperately. 

The way Essek had spoken, with a soft shiness to his words, as though he were the one asking for a favor or even — the thought had come so unbidden — for a date. It had driven heat into Caleb’s cheeks and all his friends’ eyes had snapped to him to witness the stuttering reaction. A situation so awkward that there hadn’t been a single teasing remark from his friends, just Beau’s gaze, heavy with judgment and distrust. 

And still, Caleb didn’t know where to look.

He breathed in the candle smoke and the sweetness of alchemy in the air, hoping to draw some confidence back into his lungs. A shard of onyx held between two fingertips, he dragged it through the small puddle of blood that had gathered in his palm in a spiralling motion and recited the syllables once more. So many times had he repeated them by now that the ritual had become akin to prayer.

Caleb felt the magic, very abruptly, shift.

The sweet release of it flooded him with visceral satisfaction for just the tiniest of moments before the world faded. 

Light left the room as though the very existence of brightness had been snuffed out like a candle. Sound was sucked from his ears so suddenly that the silence hurt like a drop in pressure, and he gasped reflexively, only nothing came out of his mouth but breath. Essek had been a few steps away from him, leaving space for his aura of frustration, but that as well have been a world away now. Caleb tried to call for him, but nothing.

This was definitely not how the spell was supposed to go. For one, Caleb hadn’t meant to plunge either of them into its area of effect but rather to create a smaller sphere in the middle of the room, with a radius of maybe two, three feet. Not to mention that the main effect, according to Essek’s neatly outlined notes, was supposed to be a “crushing gravitational force.” 

They were lucky, of course, that he’d fumbled that particular aspect of the spell. He wondered how big the sphere might have become. Essek had said that the largest radius he’d managed to produce had been 40 feet wide. It was highly unlikely that Caleb would manage to exceed that number, but considering that he hadn’t cast it correctly, there really was no telling. The lack of light and sound seemed to have been successful, he thought, standing unmoving in the darkness with nothing but the blood rushing in his ears, but the gravity effect’s absence was worrisome. He could neither smell nor feel any change around him, but that didn’t mean that the spell’s energy hadn’t been redirected into some other catastrophic effect he couldn’t perceive yet.

In the dark, Caleb wiped a hand over his mouth. Dropping the spell should’ve been as easy as undoing a bow, but it had slipped from his fingers and thus, his control. He hadn’t made an error like that since — years and years ago, another life before his voice had changed and his beard had grown in. Disapproval loomed all too vividly over his shoulder, the knowledge that he had disappointed making Caleb swallow thickly. 

Hopefully, it would fade as quickly as intended. The spell was not designed to last for a very long time, merely sixty seconds that were trickling by already, and while it was not unheard of that casting attempts ended in longer effects than planned, it was a rare occurrence. In fact, time was never a source of error for him. Space could be a little trickier, while gravity was a very new — 

Careful hands slid against his chest, making Caleb freeze. There was a calm warmth in those palms, seeping into his skin and soothing away the immediate anxiety of having made a mistake. He took a deep, steadying breath, his chest expanding and moving those hands along with it. A thumb stroked over his heart — just a tiny caress — and had Caleb swallowing. 

He’d grown used to touch again in recent months. Healing hands, playful punches, fingers braiding his hair, arms thrown around his shoulders. But none of it had prepared him for the gutting, twisting want this little point of solace would ignite in him. Before the thought had even clearly formed in his mind, his fingers were already wrapping around Essek’s wrists, keeping the touch close. 

It was a moment of absolute stillness, stretched unnaturally by the dark and the hush of magic around them, in which neither of them seemed to breathe. And then, all at once, he became aware of just how _close_ Essek was; how shivery breath was hitting his cheek and how his knuckles were brushing against Essek’s tunic. If he just turned his face a little — 

His nose bumped against Essek’s and he felt their embarrassed chuckles mingle warm between them, but neither was pulling away. Further up slid Essek’s hand until it left the expanse of Caleb’s shirt and found the skin of his throat. How his Adam’s apple bobbed and how his pulse thrummed, it was all exposed to Essek’s wandering palm that then settled along the curve of his cheek. The scrape of skin against stubble was muted by the spell but Caleb only felt it more intensely in the absence of sound. 

A realization dawned in his mind, then. Every single touch between the two of them, Caleb had initiated.

Turning Essek’s sorrowful face towards his own.

The squeeze of his hand on Essek’s arm.

His dry lips brushing against Essek’s forehead.

The shock of Essek’s touch left Caleb trembling, as though his nerves were dancing with joy, his cells running in fear. The longing that had become a companion as steady as the Mighty Nein didn’t dim, though, now that Essek’s skin lay against his own like a balm. Instead, he felt it flare up viciously in his chest, like a sudden stab of pain where there had been a constant ache.

When he spoke Essek’s name into the darkness, it was because he couldn’t not. Caleb could feel it vibrate in his throat and taste its beauty on his tongue. He felt the heat of his own breath, as the two syllables likely hit Essek’s lips — so, so close. Suspended in the air they hesitated, maybe savored. Once Caleb felt Essek shift his weight, though, pushing onto the tips of his toes and rising up to meet him — that was when he fell. 

Essek’s lips were just as soft as he’d always imagined. They pressed against his for a careful kiss, and then another. Caleb let his hands glide down to Essek’s elbows, pulling closer still. Only then did he feel Essek melt against him, breath leaving him in a soundless sigh and mouth softening into a lingering kiss. 

Years and years it had been since Caleb had held someone like this. And his ravenous heart beat in devastation against his ribs, so stark that Essek must’ve felt it where his palm was still smoothed over Caleb’s chest. As though guessing his thought, those fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, in a move so bluntly full of want that it made Caleb feel dizzy.

Their kiss deepened so naturally, it might’ve been the thousandth instead of the first. Essek’s tongue slipped hotly into his mouth and Caleb tilted his head just so and oh, he never wanted this to end. The solidity of Essek’s body in his embrace, the gentle press of lips, the closeness — he could barely think, all he could do was feel and feel and feel.

Caleb was frayed like an old coat hanging next to the exquisite mantle of the Shadowhand. Essek kisses were smooth and rich and controlled, and he was — ragged. With cracked, starved lips he chased for more of that unmatched sensation of being wanted. His hands slid to the curve of Essek’s spine, holding him close with humiliating desperation, but Caleb had discarded his pride a long time ago. 

He wasn’t above begging, and wasn’t that what his mouth was for?

There was a heat stealing up his neck and into his cheeks like an assassin he’d never seen coming. Caleb’s cool fell away as though stabbed and left for dead, and he could feel himself breathe heavily into the kiss. Essek’s touch was searing along his cheek and yet it felt like forgiveness for being this messy as well, a quiet sympathy. Because Essek was shuddering in his arms, tugging at him like there was any space left for them to press even closer together. 

What a wonderful thing to get lost in. Caleb would’ve happily wasted away eleven years of his life, if only it had consisted of nothing but kissing Essek, caught in a haze of sensation so intense it was almost scary. There was a needy quiver in his throat, a hum in his vocal cords that never got to become sound when he felt the tips of elegant fingers slide into the loose hair at the base of his neck. His ponytail was coming undone.

How he’d managed so long to keep himself apart from Essek, Caleb could no longer remember — not when he found himself unable to take his lips off of Essek’s for longer than a frenzied heartbeat, not when they were crushed against each other as if by magnetic force. Caleb _craved_ , like he rarely allowed himself to, and so he kept gorging himself on whatever Essek was willing to give. 

What he wanted was to disappear. To no longer have to think because all he was was Essek’s. Bruising, that’s how the kiss began to feel, and Caleb wanted to drown himself in the noise Essek made just then, because if he was wanted, then this was all he ever needed to be. Nothing but a body to embrace and lips to worship. If Caleb was meant to be used by those in power, then why not like this?

Essek’s lips parted from his, just a breath away, making Caleb’s trail helplessly after them. _Please_ , he thought, _please_ , _not yet_. A warm, throaty chuckle hit his cheek, and his heart squeezed. In a soothing gesture, Essek bumped his nose against Caleb’s, staying close as their chests heaved together. Somehow, they were swaying slightly where they stood, as though on the final notes of a dance. 

And when Caleb opened his eyes, he could see Essek’s pale lashes and the flawlessness of his skin and the gentle smile curving his lips, more beautiful than he’d ever seen him. There was blood smeared on his jaw where Caleb had touched him. Caleb felt sick. There were footfalls and confused shouts elsewhere in the building. The inevitable knock on the door came; a voice calling for the Shadowhand followed after it.

Caleb’s palm throbbed with pain.

“ _Oh_.” Essek blinked rapidly, returning to himself, it seemed. 

The careful hopefulness on his face was a painful reminder of their conversation on the ship, when Essek had looked just like that. Caleb swallowed. It burned in his throat, the knowledge of how he’d let himself be fooled, how he’d hoped so desperately, so idiotically that Essek wasn’t exactly like all the other powerful wizards in his life. 

They were still holding each other close. Caleb let his hands fall from Essek’s spine.

“Fuck, I wish I could trust you.” The words rushed out of his mouth in a single breath.

Hurt flashed in Essek’s eyes and he opened his mouth to speak, but another, more urgent knock on the door interrupted him. 

“Just a moment!” Essek called, his voice cutting with impatience, before returning to a low murmur. “Caleb —”

But Caleb was already prying Essek’s hands off of himself.

“I should let you return to your work as Shadowhand,” Caleb heard himself say, numb. He stooped down to pick up the onyx he’d dropped. “Thank you for allowing me to copy that spell. I think I can work out the rest on my own.”

As intended, the effect of the spell had worn off after exactly sixty seconds. Time had always been the part Caleb excelled at. Space he’d still need to work on, but he didn’t expect too many difficulties with that. It would be easy to find out just how far its effect had reached. Gravity, however, he’d messed up completely. There had been absolutely none of that. 

“Don’t do this,” Essek was saying and he sounded distressed, but Caleb had started towards the door and couldn’t see what his expression might’ve looked like. 

“I’ll see you later,” he said, then pulled open the door. 

Outside, a startled Kryn soldier stepped aside to let him pass after a moment of confused hesitation and Caleb rushed past without looking back. He should find his friends. They had work to do after all. And the Caleb they needed was the one with the brilliant ideas and arcane solutions no one else could provide.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Please consider donating some validation for a good cause (my self-worth).  
> The collecting tin can be found below in the comment section.


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